Author's Note: Found an old piece I wrote for a LJ meme in my folder the other day.

Play five songs on shuffle.
Write a drabble for each song
The number of words (in each drabble) must be the exact length of the song.

Title: Shuffling Shifts

Playground Love - Air: 3m31: 331words.

You shut off your ipod, feeling your ears sting from having your earphones on for so long. Flipping over your stomach, you catch a glimpse of your stepsister reading a book a few metres away. She must have been lost in her thoughts because a frown was etched on her face. Unable to tear your eyes away, you watch her until her she breaks into a smile.

You hate that you find it endearing.

This isn't supposed to be endearing, or... whatever you're feeling now.

This is supposed to be about the touches and stolen kisses you really can't stop. The whimpers she can't stop.

It's been twenty-nine days since you've first started this, this thing. You know this because your first kiss was exactly a month before Marti's birthday. Your little sister has this habit of announcing the number of days until her birthday and she starts the countdown precisely a month prior.

Her birthday's tomorrow. You did the math.

Twenty-nine days of excruciatingly amazing fumbles you wouldn't trade for the world. Your stomach tightens when you realize that as the days continue to pass, it's getting harder and harder to convince yourself that it's only about sex.

You sigh, closing your eyes at the thought. You fold your head into your arms under you and try to block out all the kids yelling in the park.

Marti deciding to celebrate her birthday in a National Park, from all places, is beyond you. So you have to contend yourself with music players and brief glances to fill your time.

Well, that's what you're settling for until you reach home. The whole family is bound to be exhausted. No one would have time to notice you sneaking into Casey's room and staying there until morning.

The perks of sleeping with your stepsister, the one who's bedroom is right next to yours. The one who used to drive you completely crazy. Who now makes your blood boil in an entirely different way.

Gravity - John Mayer: 4m05: 405words

You notice him watching you from the corner of your eye. You've given up trying to read your book about fifteen minutes ago and you're now trying not to squirm under his gaze. You won't.

This isn't right, and you're fully aware of that, but you can't bring yourself to care. The time spent crashing and moving against Derek is doing things to you you would have never imagined. Somewhere, far back in the recesses of your mind, you know you're weaving yourself into something that might ultimately hurt you. But the heady feeling you get whenever you're near him somehow makes it worth it.

You can't stop thinking about him. In class. At work. Every time you're out with your friends.

Sometimes you hate that he has such an intense effect on you. You and Derek have always had an unsettling problem with control.

Sometimes when you tumble over his or your bed–or on some occasions, the living room couch–you engage into this intense back-and-forth thing where you're both grasping for the upper-hand. And even in that last whispered and echoed high, the winner always remains undetermined.

You don't know how or why, but it never matters in the aftermath.

No, in those brief, quiet moments, something in the air always shifts and you still haven't figured it out yet. A slow haze fills your mind, rendering you useless, and all you can think of doing is settling comfortably against him.

You don't understand. You finish having wild reckless sex and you're cuddling like a sappy couple. You're not, and won't ever be, that couple.

You lift your gaze to the object of your thoughts and take a sharp intake of breath when your eyes wander along his strong back, his tee tight across his muscles.

A loud squeal from your left tears your eyes away from the gorgeous view in front of you and you're suddenly crashing back into reality. You watch with something akin to guilt as your mother mends one of the younger kids' injury. You sigh.

You're supposed to be one big happy family. You're supposed to fight and argue and do brotherly-sisterly things that don't involve secret lingering kisses and deep hurried thrusts.

In this whole wretched mess, that's the worst part of it all. You don't want to be part of some horrendous scandal.

Like sleeping with your stepbrother.

Even if the pull feels too natural.

Center of Attention – Jackson Waters: 4m08: 408words

Things get worse, or at least weirder, after Marti's party. The moment you reach your room, you wait a total of six minutes–just enough time for everyone to safely retreat into their respective rooms for the night–before you barge into hers.

She's staring at the ceiling and barely flinches at your sudden appearance. She doesn't even acknowledge your presence.

You take a moment to take in her still-fully-clothed body, lying unmoving on the bed. Your eyes roam slowly from the bridge of her nose to her more womanly curves, eliciting a stronger reaction from the southern part of your body.

You quietly step your way to her bed, your knee dipping the mattress slightly. She finally looks up at you and you notice her sad crestfallen expression.

You frown. What's wrong? You kick your shoes off and lay next to her, waiting for her answer. You start to get nervous when she doesn't respond right away.

This is wrong. Her voice is small. It constricts your heart. You don't want this to stop. You really don't want this to stop. You've already had this talk with her, but you think, somehow, this time is different. She sounds more defeated and you vaguely wonder what's reeling in that clever mind of hers to make her doubt once again.

You can't seem to find the right words, so you settle for a soft kiss against her neck. She tenses beside you. You freeze.

With your head carefully buried in the crook of her neck, you apologize. I'm sorry. She nods, faintly before she turns her face to yours. Your eyes lock for an interminable moment, and this fucked up situation you've been trapped in lately just got more fucked up.

Oh God. The words are out of her mouth before you have a chance to say anything. She whimpers softly and you think she's going to cry, but her eyes are dry and wide. This is bad, Derek, she says.

Yes, you know. But you can't walk away. Not now.

A strange thought flitters across your mind: it took you a month. You never thought yourself capable. Even with Sally, who made your heart beat a lot faster than you were ever comfortable with, didn't even come close to what Casey does to you.

Casey tears you open. She tears you open then stitches you back. The centre of your world.

And you're ready to wait for her.

Until the Sun Turns Black – Ray Lamontagne: 4m47: 447words

He waits for you, patiently.

The trysts decrease dramatically after that conversation. You'll kiss him sometimes, because you can't really help yourself. The look in his eyes, glazed over and clouded with lust, makes you feel more like a girl than you ever have before.

He makes you feel like a girl.

He makes you feel loved.

But the gnawing guilt is a beast you're still trying to fight. You find yourself nearly divulging everything to your mother. You knew deep down she would never reproach or hate you for it, but you can't seem to work up the nerve.

The days pass. The nights go by. You go to all your classes, ride with him to and from school. No one knows. You don't think anyone cares.

But it's eating you up. You almost cave once. You're waiting for him after one of his practices, calmly reading your book in the heated car, when he suddenly barges in rubbing his palms roughly over his face.

Tough practice, he supplies and your hand's already reaching out to him. Before you know it, you're both panting for air as he trails kisses down your neck. You moan softly and incoherently, his name most likely. Suddenly, his hands are all over you and you can't bring yourself to stop him. He pulls your shirt off, and it occurs to you that you're in the front seat of a small car, in the middle of the school parking lot.

Derek. But the urgency in your voice doesn't dissuade him. He continues his slow onslaught on your senses when your phone lets out a loud ring. You silently thank whoever interrupted the moment because you're seriously starting to lose your will to resist him.

He groans. Ignore it.

You already opened your phone, though. He sighs loudly as you greet the person on the other line. His head falls against the back of his seat and you finally notice the bump in his jeans.

It's your mother, asking if you can bring a bottle of wine for your dinner guests. You think you and Derek could probably use a bottle for yourselves too. But you don't voice that thought.

You're about to start the car when he breaks the silence. I can't do this.

You could practically hear your heart breaking.

Did you misinterpret everything?

I'll wait, he said. The panic on your face must have shown because Derek's next words catch you completely off-guard.

I can't wait if you don't want this as bad as I do, he whispers quietly, his head bent low.

Your eyes momentarily close, trying to take his words in.

I want all of you, Casey.

Spinning – Zero7: 6m03: 603words

You hope she understands the weight behind the words, the meaning. Because you're slowly spiralling into the ground. She does things to you. She makes you want to be different. She makes you feel different.

It takes you about half a second after that to realize that you haven't only fallen for her, you have dug yourself deep into her solid ground, trapped and waiting for her hand to pull you back up.

You think that if you give her time, she'll eventually face her fears. You still aren't sure what she's afraid of, but you think it has something to do with being normal.

You know she wants normal, you know this. But you and she are anything but normal.

You'd like to think you're greater than normal, better. That you both can start fire together and create a haze that normal could only dream of.

That you understood each other more than normal could ever offer.

That you love her more than normal would normally allow. Christ, you love her.

You think sometimes she deliberately ignores that rather important detail. Casey is queen of denial. If you were able to accept it, then she can too. Or at least you'd like to think so.

But you'd never dream of pushing her. She has to extend her hand all on her own. Make up her mind all on her own. Love you back, before offering you the sympathy hand.

And while you wait, you spin… and stay chained to the same spot.

Derek. Your name on her lips halts your downward spiral and you shift your eyes from the ceiling of your bedroom to her pale face.

Mom says I don't eat enough, she says quietly, taking a seat on your bed. It's true. You've mentioned it to her before but she brushed you off.

She's right, you agree.

She pauses after that, just sits unmoving on your bed, chewing on her lip.

She says I look preoccupied, she continues, wringing her hands nervously on her lap.

Are you? You can't help the bitterness from seeping in your voice. But instead of the angry retort you were expecting, her face crumples.

You feel the world stop when she sinks against you. You rock her back and forth, whispering soothing words. I'm sorry. You don't know why she's crying. You don't know what to do. It's okay.

But it only makes her cry harder. Her breath quickens and her body shakes painfully against yours. You think maybe you're better off not comforting her since you're doing such a sloppy job of it. You can't stand this.

Casey. You repeat her name several times. It seems like it's the only thing you can say. You heave a quiet sigh of relief when her cries slowly subside. The painful pang from hearing her wretched sobs doesn't fully ebb away, though.

She sleeps in your bed that night. And the following night, and the one after. You're starting to think she no longer likes her bed, but you don't complain because having her so close to you makes everything else three times better. Even your stupid English essay.

You try not to think much of it–you don't want to get your hopes up.

But as the school year comes to an end, you notice her smile again. The small, shy one she used to give you in the mornings during those first weeks of being together.

And this time the spinning is much better because you're spinning with Casey.

And you're out of the hole, falling with her with a loud thud on the ground.